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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995315">Lorenz and Hilda's Paired Ending</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalyppso/pseuds/Kalyppso'>Kalyppso</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Golden Discretion [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Background Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra - Freeform, Background My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, Background Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, My Unit is not Byleth, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Romance, no beta we die like Glenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:16:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalyppso/pseuds/Kalyppso</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This interpretation of Lorenz and Hilda's Paired Ending pairs with my other writing in this series. The War of Flames has ended, and there are politics to be dealt with, but more importantly there are interpersonal relationships to be repaired, and a blossoming romance at the Gloucester estate to be explored, which will culminate in a wedding.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hilda Valentine Goneril</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Golden Discretion [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. You Might Hate Me Afterwards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Probably spoilers, but some of the spoilers are wrong because I'm sure to have taken scissors to the canon. </p><p>All Fire Emblem properties and characters have credit to Nintendo and their respective creators / owners. I'm just playing.</p><p>The first three chapters have a lot to do with Ferdibert...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nemesis had been defeated two months ago now. Claude’s identity revealed, he had returned to Almyra, and left Leicester without a Grand Duke. Faerghus too was without a king, with those-who-knew aware that Dimitri was yet recuperating in Margrave Edmund’s lands, with Dedue and Mercedes there to aid him. Meanwhile Adrestia was in a state of chaos; nobles missing and arrested and deposed. What remained of each nobility was meeting at Garreg Mach, to discuss the terms of restoring the continent.</p><p>It was during this time, when Lorenz saw the stress that Fae was under, that he’d decided he would propose. He had loved them, as deep and as true in any way that mattered.</p><p>They were not loud and boisterous in the way that charisma was advertised, but their manner of charm had led them through a war, had endeared him years ago, and was building peace with the remnants of nations even now.</p><p>This was to say nothing of their friendship. He knew that he could rely on them for anything, and wanted to offer them the same. The others of the remaining nobility looked on him with suspicion, representing Count Gloucester, a one-time traitor to both sides of the war, but Faedolyn helped set the playing field, so that his words weren’t devoid of worth or merit when negotiating their recompense.</p><p>Fae was beautiful, and kind, and had been enamored with Claude so that anyone with eyes knew the weight of it … but he had left them, fled to Almyra despite the bond they had shared.</p><p>Some responsibilities were bigger than a relationship, Lorenz knew this, but still, Claude’s absence … meant that Fae needed someone. Moreso, than Hilda.</p><p>He and Hilda had danced around the concept of marriage these past few months, but she was the picture of a noblewoman, and would soon be awash in proposals. He’d heard once before that she had already been receiving them while the war was ongoing. Surely now, there would be someone else, stronger than he, head of their own estate, with honor and charm to match, whom Hilda was already considering turning him down for; while he hadn’t even spoken to his family yet.</p><p>Not that he had spoken to them about Faedolyn, but … this didn’t bother him as much, somehow. If their opinion of Faedolyn could be poor, then he wouldn’t hear of it.</p><p>Lorenz had been mid-sentence when Fae interrupted him to tell him that they had already made a promise with Claude. He hadn’t even gotten to his proposal, but obviously they had been able to tell where he’d been going with his rambling. He felt humiliated, though no one had been around to see it, and Fae had been so kind, smiling and assuring him that they loved and trusted him, and hoped that he would soon find the companion he’d been seeking.</p><p>He was still red-faced and feeling stupid when Hilda found him, out for a breath of fresh air. After having seen her in his peripheral vision, Lorenz had turned away, and then kicked himself, as this surely had sparked her interest.</p><p>“It’s a lovely night.” Hilda’s voice was soft and sweet, like she was worried she might scare him off. Lorenz sighed, wondering if he really looked that dishevelled even from behind.</p><p>He looked to the stars, twinkling in the inky blue sky. “It really is.”</p><p>“It’s hard. To have a good night in the same walls as those we were fighting against so recently.” Hilda stepped up beside him, and Lorenz tilted his head downwards, feeling guilty about not focusing on this same turmoil.</p><p>She thought for a moment of linking arms with him, but he looked so guarded and distracted that she linked her hands behind herself instead.</p><p>He mused, “I wonder how many of them feel the same.”</p><p>“Ferdinand was crying earlier,” Hilda confessed, and she nodded at Lorenz when he sought her gaze, his eyes widening. “I went to check on him after dinner. It might feel like we’ve made scant progress in our meetings thus far but … it’s going to be hard for the remaining Adrestians to concede anything. And you know Ferdie lost so much. All things considered … things are probably going well.</p><p>“And so,” she concluded, “I stand by it. A lovely night.”</p><p>Lorenz smiled for half a second, and then led Hilda down stone walls until he could find a bench to sit with her, leaning back, staring at the same sky as his broken friends and enemies. She sighed, and he felt her bump up against his side. He considered wrapping an arm around her, but this wasn’t the chill of a war camp, there was no excuse for such a break in propriety, and without her knowing what he’d just walked away from, he also worried it would be unfair to her by some measure of logic. He waited a long time before he spoke again.</p><p>“Hilda, I have to confess something to you.”</p><p>She sat up, a little straighter, tilting her chin to try to look him in the eye, but Lorenz kept looking skyward.</p><p>“You might hate me afterwards.”</p><p>Softly, a small fist thud against the side of his chest, and Lorenz giggled, in spite of everything. He met her gaze, and she was so concerned and beautiful and dear to him in this moment. He could’ve kept it a secret, from her, or anyone to whom he might one day propose, but she was his friend. He wanted her to know. And if they could still someday marry, he needed her to know. He could not bear the weight of such a secret between them.</p><p>“I proposed to Faedolyn a few hours ago.”</p><p>At first he thought Hilda was shocked, as she placed a hand over her mouth, but soon her amusement overtook her, and her whole body was shaking in silent laughter. Lorenz snorted.</p><p>“Lorenz,” Hilda scolded, delight and sympathy in her tone. “How could you?”</p><p>“I thought that—”</p><p>“How could you not have seen that they were so tightly bound to Claude?”</p><p>He blushed and looked away. “You knew?”</p><p>Hilda was nodding, laughing a little louder. “You should have asked me.”</p><p>“I … thought that would have been rude. Considering our conversations.”</p><p>After letting her enjoyment of his embarrassment die down, Hilda reached up to hold Lorenz’s closest shoulder, lazing against him and the bench.</p><p>“It’s fine.” He could tell by her tone that it <em> wasn’t </em>, but that settled him a little more than if it had actually been fine. That she was still interested enough to be jealous was assuring. “I think we’re all a little bit in love with Fae anyway … or maybe that’s just me.” She looked back from the stars to his face. “Besides, you can make it up to me in the library tomorrow.”</p><p>Lorenz raised an eyebrow, smirking, incredulous. “Do you need me to read something?”</p><p>Hilda tossed her head back, exasperated. “Holst kept making reference to a very specific Charon trade agreement whenever he spoke about structuring the regulation of governance along the Adrestian border. I’m sure you heard him. Although <em> he </em> would not be surprised to hear that I have no idea what he’s talking about … I don’t want to ask him. But if you read that very long, boring document for me … I’d have no problems asking <em> you </em>.”</p><p>“Nearly nostalgic,” Lorenz huffed. “I’ll find the time.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>The following morning Lorenz woke early. He dressed and collected apples, toast and butter, and hazarded his way through where the Adrestians were staying. He stared at Ferdinand’s door for a few minutes before knocking. He could hear movement inside, pacing and muttering, and winced sympathetically for the state of his friend.</p><p>Ferdinand opened the door without delay. He looked a mess. Changed into a night shirt, he still wore his pants from the day before. His long hair was bedraggled and he had dark rings below his eyes. His feet were bare, and Lorenz could see where they were bruised and swollen in injury. His face was swollen too, from too many tears.</p><p>“No,” Ferdinand said instantly. “I don’t want to … I <b>can’t</b> see you right now.”</p><p>Lorenz raised a hand to the closing door. “Just ten minutes? Please.”</p><p>Ferdinand’s shoulders tightened. He obviously hadn’t expected to need to fight Lorenz on his request for privacy, and he caved instantly, slumping as he stepped aside.</p><p>Leaving the food on a small table, Lorenz stepped far into the room, to make it more difficult to be thrown out of it, and maybe to offer himself in sacrifice, if Ferdinand were thinking of stabbing him. He sighed, and turned around.</p><p>“I understand you had time for Hilda, yesterday.” Lorenz hadn’t meant that to sound as accusatory as it did. Ferdinand slammed the door.</p><p>“Hilda didn’t — she — it wasn’t—” He took a breath. “It’s not the same.”</p><p>Lorenz nodded, and though he willed himself to look away from Ferdinand’s bloodshot eyes, he couldn’t bear to.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Ferdinand grimaced, as if disgusted. “You can’t expect me to forgive you.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Lorenz agreed, reaching up to touch his chest absently, “but I also wouldn’t have you thinking that I took joy from your pain, or were indifferent to you.”</p><p>“That hardly matters.” Ferdinand ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back as he shut his eyes tight, failing to suppress a sob. He could feel himself crumbling, and moved to sit on the bed before he could collapse. His head between his knees, he held his face in his hands, breathing heavily. He took a moment before sitting upright, his face red from the motion. “Because in the end, here I am again for a third time. A hostage.”</p><p>“You are not a hostage, Ferdinand,” Lorenz insisted, but the aggression he was faced with in retaliation to such a statement had him jump.</p><p>“I may not face execution, but if I do not concede to every demand set by our old professor, to each request of loyalty, to the responsibilities placed before me, then where would I go? I cannot go home … to be stoned or worse by my own people, as my father was. To be destitute? Exiled? Imprisoned? I am a hostage to circumstance if not to you, Lorenz. Do not fool yourself into thinking otherwise.”</p><p>“Ferdie,” Lorenz began, but Ferdinand squinted as if pained by the nickname.</p><p>“Do not call me that,” he hissed, raising a hand to cover his eyes. When he could bear to look at Lorenz again, his eyes were more sad than angry, and Ferdinand tapped the bed next to him, allowing his friend to sit with him.</p><p>“And after everything,” Ferdinand continued as the mattress dipped next to him with Lorenz’s weight, “I am alone.” He sighed. “Maybe I would feel better if Linhardt or Caspar were here.” Neither of the men had stood with Edelgard as Ferdinand had, and Linhardt’s father and Caspar’s brother were present to represent their houses these past few weeks. “Petra was right to leave as soon as she could, and I’m happy Dorothea went with her. And Bernadetta … well, she just wants to see this done. I feel as close to her now as I do to you, and that is…”</p><p>Lorenz nodded.</p><p>“This isn’t to say that I can’t do what you’re asking of me,” Ferdinand insisted, his voice sounding more like himself now. “I can govern Adrestia. I can sow peace and help you cast out the remnants of Those Who Slither In The Dark. I know there are people who need me; people I don’t know ... and probably never will. I just … I need more time than what’s been given to me, to mourn.” Lorenz hazarded wrapping an arm around Ferdinand then, and felt his friend push into the embrace, his sobbing face twisted into Lorenz’s shoulder.</p><p>“I can’t help it. I can’t help that behind every thought I try to focus upon, I can only hear and feel and embody: I miss him.” Lorenz swallowed, knowing heartbreak of this kind well, but not associated with the War of Flames. “And I miss him. And I miss him, Lorenz,” Ferdinand wept. “I just … I want him back.”</p><p>“Your father?”</p><p>“My fath—?” Ferdinand sputtered, scoffing as he pulled away to wipe at his face. “No, Lorenz.” Ferdinand looked as if he could not believe that Lorenz didn’t know. In truth Ferdinand had to wonder now if anyone outside of Adrestia had known. He wondered whether now would be an appropriate time to lie, but could not bring himself to do so, as now might be one of the last times he could say his lover’s name without having to face the cruel and unjust veil of history. “I mean Hubert. <em> My </em> Hubert.”</p><p>Lorenz blinked in surprise. “You <em> hated </em> that man.” He covered his mouth, but this response had actually caused Ferdinand to laugh, though Lorenz only lowered his hand to his heart, looking sad.</p><p>“I did,” Ferdinand agreed. “Or at least … he could be the most infuriating person at times, but … we hadn’t been arguing the past few years. We spoke through our troubles, with the war and with each other. I will <em> never </em> be able to trust another as I learned to trust him. And I <em> miss him </em>. And I-I will never be able to see him again. I will never—”</p><p>Ferdinand’s broken heart meant that he was quickly overcome by tears again. Lorenz could not believe that Ferdinand had let him into the room. It was … well documented, that when their forces had faced off against Hubert, only two of their number had caused him any injury. Fae had cut him down, but Lorenz had been the first to strike a blow against the man. He was no longer surprised that Ferdinand would hold a different opinion of Hilda.</p><p>And yet there was more to this story that Ferdinand didn’t know. That went beyond Lorenz’s right to say. For now, it was all he could do to hold his friend, with hands that Ferdinand thought had ended his lover. After a few minutes, Lorenz was fighting tears too.</p><p>“Thank you,” Ferdinand whimpered, “for not … for understanding.”</p><p>Lorenz pressed a kiss to Ferdinand’s curls. “Thank you for trusting me.” He hesitated and sighed. “If I could orchestrate a miracle—”</p><p>“Then there need never have been a war,” Ferdinand offered, smiling, uninterested in entertaining ‘what if’s.</p><p>However Lorenz had been on the verge of a true offer, and would have finished his sentence bemoaning his worry that orchestrating a miracle would only earn him more of Ferdinand’s ire, but this was enough for now. He would not correct him.</p><p>Lorenz smiled back, strained as it was, and nodded his agreement.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed this! I'd love a kudos or comment, especially if you're a guest.</p><p>My ADHD says More Projects. Can't finish things. I mean. I can. And I do. And I will. It is just ... not ... timely.</p><p>I wanted to finish another mermaid chapter by today, but it's my fucking birthday, so instead I'm treating myself by posting what I actually have written. Draft for the next chapter of the Merm AU is only 2k long so far. I have 2.5k written for a sequel to Oops. I have 3.5k written for the next chapter of I Wanna Be Yours, but I am not liking it and will likely be starting that over. So. Things are coming along. &lt;3</p><p>Also none of my friends have time for fandom things lately so I've lost my two editors. If you see errors, please feel welcome to comment and I will want to fix them. @-@</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. More Than None</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having left the food with Ferdinand, Lorenz was starting to feel some pangs of hunger an hour later as he sat with Lysithea in the library, trying to find what Holst may have been remembering in the Charon trade agreement. If he were honest, he’d thought Holst had done a fair job of describing what he’d meant at the last meeting, but he had no context to the reference either. It felt rather anticlimactic when they finished a third read-through of the document, and Lysithea rolled her eyes, returning to reviewing territorial disputes from the time of the founding of Leicester, mostly resolved by large payoffs from the church that they couldn’t quite accomplish this time around.</p><p>“Look at you two, studying away,” Hilda sang as she entered, just in time to do no work.</p><p>Lysithea rolled her eyes, but the affection in her expression betrayed her annoyance. “Some of us are expected to speak at the meeting this afternoon. You know, it would be refreshing if you contributed too, suggested an idea that took even your brother aback.”</p><p>Hilda laughed as she sat across from them. “As if. The last thing I need is someone thinking I need <b>more</b> responsibility.”</p><p>“More than none?” Lysithea prodded.</p><p>“How cruel.” Hilda pouted to Lorenz, and he mimed the expression as if in sympathy, and that had her smiling again. With a wink, Hilda pulled a package from her side. “I guess all that’s left to do is the irresponsible thing and eat all this candied fruit on my own.”</p><p>“You would,” Lysithea insisted, though she was blushing deep pink now, and closing up her book to keep the pages free of sticky fingers.</p><p>They snacked and gossiped, explaining for Hilda what had been in the Charon trade agreement, and observing for the hundredth time on the changes since Claude’s absence, wondering what he would think of how things were progressing.</p><p>“I sent another letter since our last one,” Hilda confessed. The remaining Golden Deer had written a joint letter to send with a letter from Fae the last time they were all together.</p><p>“Have you heard from him?” Lorenz asked.</p><p>“Sort of. He replied to Fae specifically, but he said nice things about the rest of us and what we wrote. I’m sure they’d be happy to show you if you asked.”</p><p>“Maybe when there’s less to do,” Lorenz sighed.</p><p> </p><p>When the nobility concluded their gathering for the evening, Lorenz interrupted Fae and Seteth’s council to ask for permission to see the prisoner housed in Seteth’s tower. When asked why he would want to see him, Lorenz braced himself to break Ferdinand’s trust.</p><p>“I recently comforted someone to whom he was very dear,” Lorenz confessed. “I … wanted to consult with him. To see if anything he might say could change my opinion of him, so that I would be more comfortable petitioning a change in his circumstances.”</p><p>“What?” Seteth hissed, but Fae was far softer in their response, stepping forward and touching Lorenz’s upper arm.</p><p>“Who was this person?”</p><p>“I do not wish to make things worse for them,” Lorenz worried.</p><p>Seteth opened his mouth to protest, but Fae shot him a glare before assuring Lorenz, “We are not unreasonable. I am sure it would be good for him to know that there are yet people who do not only see him as … well, as most do. I trust you to speak with him.”</p><p> </p><p>After dinner, Lorenz was let into the room where they were keeping Hubert. It was well furnished, a gilded cage. Far more than he would have afforded any of them, had the war taken a different turn, Lorenz assumed from the rumours.</p><p>There were no true windows, but four high horizontal slats near the ceiling of the room, allowing in light in the day, and fresh air from outside. Hubert was dressed comfortably, in billowing clothes on a soft bed, with a pile of (well curated) books for company. On his left wrist was a metal bracelet, locked in place, holding the glittering white jewel that Silenced him, rendering him a neutral threat but for any weapons he could procure.</p><p>He had been too valuable a resource to execute on the battlefield, while The Flame Emperor still reigned, and then afterwards, he had won more than his life by conceding all the information he’d collected upon Those Who Slither In The Dark. He was to remain here until the governance of Fodlan was secured, and would be soundly exiled afterwards — to Almyra, where Claude already awaited him.</p><p>“Well,” Hubert said, his voice all gravel and pomp, “this is a surprise. And here I thought you would have been rewarded. Surely you’re not here to collect my laundry?”</p><p>“Despite your silent and ominous reputation, I have never known you to hold your tongue when you could help it,” Lorenz answered, seating himself in the single chair at the wooden table in the center of the room.</p><p>Hubert raised his wrist and tapped at his bracelet with a single finger. “Muzzled as I am, my bark is all that’s left to me.” His face stretched into a bitter smile. “Now tell me, what tricks would you have of Leicester’s secret dog?”</p><p>Lorenz rolled his eyes. He wondered whether Hubert would be as ungrateful for his life in ten years … or ten minutes.</p><p>“I spoke with Ferdinand.”</p><p>It was a little horrific, to watch Hubert crumble as he did. His arms fell in front of him, and his face showed fear, and maybe a little rage.</p><p>“Is that a threat?” he asked, and Lorenz felt the left side of his mouth curl, something like a smile, but it was all pity.</p><p>“No, but I … I hadn’t known until then that—”</p><p>“You still don’t know anything,” Hubert insisted, standing, and Lorenz nodded, more used to subtlety than Hubert might possibly believe.</p><p>“He wept, he’s wept, and he is still weeping,” Lorenz said as Hubert paced in front of him. “If you can think of a way to have people feel secure in your reunion, and in your continued presence in Fodlan, then I will argue it for you.” Hubert looked at Lorenz in surprise and Lorenz swayed his head. “Well, not for you. For Ferdinand.”</p><p>“They’re fixing to make him Duke of Adrestia?” Hubert confirmed, and as Lorenz nodded, Hubert looked away, shaking his head and running his hand around his bracelet. “Then it will never happen. I won’t be allowed so close to someone with that kind of power again, especially in Adrestia.”</p><p>He sighed and sat back down on his bed. “And he still thinks I’m dead?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then my situation hasn’t changed. I would not have your people think Ferdinand had anything to do with me. He didn’t. He’s… I wouldn’t have let him.”</p><p>“He deserves to know this,” Lorenz insisted. “I would want to know. I’m sure you would too. I could have him brought here, informed of the terms of your exile—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“And why not? You clearly take no joy in his heartache. <b>Neither</b> does he.”</p><p>Hubert took a moment to chew on this information, shaking his head back and forth as the words rattled in his head. Finally he growled, “I would have him remember me as I was. I … I had a code — one you didn’t agree with, but it defined my life and who I was. If I am not that person anymore, then what use am I to those who knew me?”</p><p>It took Lorenz a minute to recognize the tone in Hubert’s voice as sadness. He doubted he would see Hubert break down as Ferdinand had, but he was, in his own way, broken.</p><p>“We are more than the sum of our parts,” Lorenz said softly.</p><p>“Not me,” Hubert protested.</p><p>“You do realize that we all want to trust you?”</p><p>“Or else I’d be dead?” He sneered.</p><p>“Yes,” Lorenz confessed.</p><p>Hubert shifted his shoulders, stretched his feet. “I could offer to stay out of politics, but I don’t even know what I would do with myself, if not help Ferdinand.”</p><p>Lorenz smiled at the olive branch, and he shook his head. “I do not think helping Ferdinand would be out of the question. It’s just a matter of how we present your motives, your understanding of the new laws that are coming out of these meetings we’ve been having, your repentance, your guiding ethics moving forward…”</p><p>“That’s a lot to quantify,” Hubert said, bristling.</p><p>“But it would be worth it,” Lorenz said, almost as a question, “if we did it right. Not only Ferdinand would benefit from your expertise. That must have been something of your principles? Helping people?”</p><p>“All I did was for Lady Edelgard,” Hubert growled, sad again.</p><p>Lorenz tried not to focus on Hubert’s words, rather than his meaning. “There. You see? You had it in you to help one person.” Hubert looked at him as if he were mad, but it was worth it. “Would you let me tell them that you would see a therapist?”</p><p>“Don’t mock me.”</p><p>“I’m not. We likely all need one after the war, but we don’t all need to declare it as terms for freedom.”</p><p>“Freedom,” Hubert repeated the word, weighing it on his tongue. It had been around two and a half months since he’d entertained the idea of freedom, and now, he would have to redefine what the word meant to him to appreciate it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you think of Hubert's characterization. If you want to offer criticism about him being alive in this fanfiction, please post it somewhere else.</p><p>I'd love a kudos or a comment!</p><p>Still no editors, so if you see mistakes, feel free to let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. There Are Conditions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hubert conceded to the therapist, and a number of other recommendations that Lorenz put forward, but not all, for which Lorenz was actually grateful because it meant that he wasn’t simply being agreeable and was actively invested in his personhood.</p>
<p>Lorenz was sure Seteth had been listening in somehow, but late in the night he spoke with him and Faedolyn about amending the terms of Hubert’s release. Exiled to Adrestia, but not beyond, able to council the duchy and the crown of Fodlan with a vast series of checks and balances. He would be subject to all their new laws, and willing to remain Silenced for a term set by the crown, even if that were forever, but Lorenz knew without asking that Fae would be willing to revisit the matter. Suspicious deaths in the nobility would always count him among their first suspects, and Hubert had laughed at this, saying that this would have been true even if they’d have executed him.</p>
<p>Enough concessions were approved by the majority of those who knew of Hubert’s imprisonment, save Claude and Marianne, that six days after Lorenz had come to visit him alone, he was walking the halls to Hubert’s room with an unwitting Ferdinand in tow.</p>
<p>“Won’t you come with me?” Lorenz had asked. “For old time’s sake?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know…” Ferdinand had nearly protested, but when he opened his mouth to speak again, Hilda interrupted.</p>
<p>“For me, then?” She winked at Lorenz, and he had to school his expression, to keep from looking shocked, or worse, disappointed by her unplanned presence. “You wouldn’t leave a lady to suffer Lorenz’s company alone?”</p>
<p>Ferdinand knew well enough that the pair of them had their share of secret and familiar conversations, but still, it tickled him to see Lorenz blush about Hilda’s accusation and a smile overtook him.</p>
<p>“And what is it that makes Lorenz’s exclusive company so terrible, might I ask?” He stepped forward with her, so that Lorenz was trailing along in his stupor.</p>
<p>Hilda looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes sharp in their assessment. She linked an arm with Ferdinand. “He tries too hard.”</p>
<p>“It is funny to hear <em> you </em> say that,” Ferdinand insisted, amused.</p>
<p>“Are you accusing me of doing anything less than my very best?” Hilda asked, exaggerated, and now Lorenz relaxed, to see them like this, even at his expense. “I’m hurt.”</p>
<p>“Of course not, Hilda,” Ferdinand answered. “It is only because you work so hard that I’m always willing to help you with trivialities.” He started to look towards Lorenz, but closed his eyes instead. “Like chaperone you in the company of persistent suitors.”</p>
<p>Lorenz felt his face flush as he scoffed, and Hilda was laughing openly.</p>
<p>Lorenz couldn’t help arguing his reputation as a gentleman, and the three of them were talking almost as if it were years ago, about paltry subjects and with familiarity. He found himself actually relieved of Hilda’s company, as she helped Ferdinand relax and find some measure of joy and distraction as he led them to their destination.</p>
<p>“I thought, for nostalgia, that you might be leading us to the dormitories or the classrooms… Where are we going?” Ferdinand asked as he looked around at the unfamiliar hallways.</p>
<p>Raising his arm absently, Lorenz considered his answer, and found that Hilda wasn’t filling the silence. They were both looking at him.</p>
<p>“Not far.”</p>
<p>Ferdinand worried for a moment, but Hilda squeezed herself against him and he shared a smile with her. For all his worries, he was yet secure enough in their friendship to take comfort from her company. He did freeze though, when they turned a corner to a set of four guards, and Seteth, standing watch around a door.</p>
<p>“They’re not for you,” Hilda said, unprompted, and Ferdinand looked back to her, nervous and nodding.</p>
<p>“Of course,” he agreed, because that would be silly. He had recently confessed to Lorenz feeling a loss related to the death of the Flame Emperor’s right hand, but he’d only done so because he’d trusted Lorenz completely, and because there was certainly no chance of him twisting that information against him…</p>
<p>Hilda pulled away from him then, stepping in front of the pair of them as she declared, “I’ll speak with Seteth.” She looked at Lorenz in accusation. “You know he likes me more than you.”</p>
<p>Lorenz nodded and turned to Ferdinand. He adjusted his hair and tried to hold onto his voice, which felt like it might run away on him and leave him paralyzed in this impossible scenario in which he’d placed himself. He tried to tell himself that Ferdinand would ultimately be pleased with the results of his efforts, but initially, his actions and his lies were … far less genteel than the persona he’d defended but a moment ago.</p>
<p>“Ferdinand,” he began.</p>
<p>“Yes, Lorenz?”</p>
<p>“You know that I value you, as a member of the nobility, as a man, and most of all as a friend, and so I pray that you’ll trust that I would not have agreed to keep this from you had I known of the nature and extent of your … of your loyalties.” He had thought to say of Ferdinand’s affection, but worried that this would be too forward.</p>
<p>“Say what you mean,” Ferdinand insisted, his tone strong, angry, accusatory.</p>
<p>“Hubert was not killed in the streets of Enbarr.”</p>
<p>Not all of the anger drained from Ferdinand’s expression, but much was replaced with confusion, uncertainty, disbelief, and heartache.</p>
<p>“What—?”</p>
<p>“He is here,” Lorenz continued. “Alive and whole. And you may see him.”</p>
<p>Lorenz nodded at Ferdinand, who closed his gaping mouth, licked his lips, and nodded in answer, still looking as if he were told he’d been dreaming the past few weeks.</p>
<p>They rejoined Hilda, and a guard at the door set about unlocking it. Seteth was quiet, leaning on the opposite wall.</p>
<p>Even before it was completely open, Ferdinand gasped, a hand thrown over his mouth.</p>
<p>Inside, Hubert leaned on his wrists, back against the table next to his single chair, facing his audience. Hubert appeared uninjured, so far as Ferdinand could see, and without shackles or the discoloration of starvation or disease, but that he appeared at all felt miraculous. Ferdinand spared one more glance at Lorenz, who weakly nodded him inside, before rushing into the room.</p>
<p>Lorenz expected Ferdinand to be speeding to embrace Hubert, but Ferdinand threw up both his hands to grasp at the fabric on the front of Huberts shoulders, slamming his fists against him as if in a rage. Hubert sneered, but it was amused and affectionate, as he rolled his hands over Ferdinand’s fists, his bracelet jingling.</p>
<p>Ferdinand’s face was red, and he looked as if he’d run a mile. Tears glazed his eyes, and his voice hissed with frustration. “Convince me it’s you. Because it can’t — <b>it can’t</b> — it can’t be—”</p>
<p>He was sobbing, and Hubert let his hands skip back around Ferdinand’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he whispered so that his audience could barely hear, “It’s me. It’s me, Ferdie. I’m here. I’m right here with you.”</p>
<p>Ferdinand slid his hands down Hubert’s chest, and then around and up to tug him down towards him, embracing him now as he cried.</p>
<p>Lorenz looked away, at first to the floor, but then to Hilda as she walked into the room. He rather wished he could step out of it and close the door, but he hadn’t won them privacy quite yet, just the reunion. Soon he had to look away from Hilda too however, as she was looking soft and sympathetic and … some other emotions he didn’t feel he had the time to digest.</p>
<p>They waited as Ferdinand hiccoughed through his tears. When he dared to pull away from Hubert, he was running his hands over his face, soaking his gloves without a thought for a handkerchief, and only now able to worry about having ruined whatever they’d dressed Hubert in. A single sobbed laugh escaped him at the thought, but he explained it to no one as he gathered himself and looked up into Hubert’s eyes, pouting about the sight, where Hubert’s eyelashes too were  wet with tears.</p>
<p>“Tell me this isn’t the night before your execution,” Ferdinand begged, at a whisper.</p>
<p>Hubert ran a scarred fingertip across his left eye and looked for a moment to his captors before answering, deep and relieved, “No, Ferdie.” He took a breath and spoke with a wonder that he hadn’t allowed in his tone outside of Ferdinand’s company. “They are releasing me to your custody.”</p>
<p>Ferdinand’s mouth fell open again and he tensed when he heard Lorenz take a single step forward.</p>
<p>“What?” he asked, looking like he might double over in another fit of tears.</p>
<p>Hubert massaged his hands back and forth over the sides of Ferdinand’s shoulders as he nodded. “Not now, but by the end of the week? Or whenever you return to Adrestia.”</p>
<p>“There are conditions,” Lorenz peeped, afraid to interrupt, but feeling they were far important in setting Ferdinand’s expectations.</p>
<p>“Of course there are,” Ferdinand hissed, wrapping his right hand around the wrist of the hand which held his shoulder. He pivoted so he could look at Lorenz in skeptic accusation. “You let me <em> mourn </em> him.”</p>
<p>“Go easy on him, Ferdinand,” Hubert said, his voice no longer strained with emotion. “He is the only reason you’re allowed to see me now. And the only reason you would see me ever again.”</p>
<p>Lorenz felt insufficient to the credit. “Not the <em> only </em> reason.” He sighed. “There was a vote. I just … put it forward.”</p>
<p>Lorenz was surprised to feel Hilda lean against him, he hadn’t noticed her come so close. He grimaced at her.</p>
<p>“Lorenz,” Ferdinand called, “I… Thank you.”</p>
<p>When Lorenz looked up to Ferdinand and Hubert, and then back to Hilda, he was surprised to see that she and Hubert seemed to be staring at one another, but there was nothing he could do except answer Ferdinand. “You are welcome. I am your friend, Ferdinand, now and always.”</p>
<p>They explained for Ferdinand, and a little for Hubert, what to expect over the coming days, and then the following months and years. Lorenz was hardly surprised Ferdinand held Hubert’s hand throughout the whole conversation, but was taken aback to a degree that brought two fingertips to his lips when Ferdinand kissed Hubert in parting. It was chaste, in so far as Lorenz had seen before he’d turned away, desperate to give them some mockery of privacy, but it was long, and it wasn’t silent, as Hubert grunted in what Lorenz hoped was shock and Ferdinand locked his arms around him again.</p>
<p>“In a week then,” Ferdinand gasped, pressing himself even closer to Hubert.</p>
<p>“In a week,” Hubert agreed, pressing a kiss to Ferdinand’s forehead and then another peck to his lips as he slipped away. Lorenz wondered about Hubert’s amusement as Ferdinand turned on his heel and tugged on his jacket, composing himself in preparation of walking out of the room, past Hilda, the guards and Seteth all, with as much restored pride as he could muster.</p>
<p>Hilda bit the tip of her tongue between her molars, before tossing a smile to Hubert and Lorenz, and skipping ahead to follow Ferdinand.</p>
<p>Lorenz met Hubert’s gaze and then looked to the floor. He touched his chest absently as he sought eye contact again as it was clear the others had left the room.</p>
<p>“I will likely not see you again, until some day when I visit Adrestia,” Lorenz said quietly.</p>
<p>“I will not miss you,” Hubert teased, smiling, and Lorenz nodded and crossed his arms as he turned to leave. Hubert swept his left hand through his hair and rested his right hand on his heart, letting Lorenz take a few steps, intending to let him leave, but he sighed and straightened up as he caught sight of Seteth beyond the doorway.</p>
<p>“Lorenz,” he called. “Nor will I forget what you’ve done for me.”</p>
<p>Lorenz huffed, as if amused.</p>
<p>“For Ferdinand,” he corrected gently, and Hubert smiled in a way that Lorenz hadn’t seen before, bright and genuine.</p>
<p>“Make it count,” Seteth contributed, sharp in a way that made it unclear if this was meant to be a warning or simple instruction, as he closed the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if you wanted me to drag out their reunion, but this aint about them. afkhdslfja I might write something about them, or fucking Felix and Sylvain, or any number of other ships I feel like, in this setting, someday. Maybe.</p>
<p>For now! I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love a kudos or comment.</p>
<p>Still no editors, so, again, let me know if there are typos or other mistakes that I should go back and fix.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I Have Some Silliness In Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please mentally prepare for some poetry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lorenz was surprised that he caught up to Hilda and Ferdinand, though they were walking in silence now, and with no physical contact between them. When they left the hallways for the western courtyard, Ferdinand stopped and took a few deep breaths of the fresh air.</p><p>“That was … a lot,” Ferdinand said quietly, before looking around to the people at either side of himself. He continued forward to a pillar ahead of him, to lean on it, slump back against it, so that his hair puffed up behind his head. “That was a lot to take in.”</p><p>“Aren’t you glad you came with us?” Hilda offered, trying to bring some levity back into their group, and Ferdinand did grace her with a fleeting smile, while he pressed his palm into his forehead, elbow to the sky, but then his lips tightened into a line as he looked from her to Lorenz.</p><p>“I thought I would want to be alone … but instead I think I would much rather hear what happened. I wish to know how he came to be here, and what would have been different had you not initiated a vote — and who was voting. Was it all of Leiscester? Or all of the nobility, save me?”</p><p>“No, Ferdinand,” Lorenz assured him. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”</p><p>“Yes, I,” Ferdinand swallowed as he stood straight, “I think I rather need to.”</p><p> </p><p>They went to Lorenz’s room then, where there was something of privacy, where Ferdinand could remove his gloves and unbutton his coat. They might have gone to Ferdinand’s room, but it was undoubtedly a mess, as disheveled as he’d been these past few days, and Lorenz would never have suggested they intrude on Hilda’s privacy. However this meant instead that he had to deal with Ferdinand laying on the floor, his knees bent up so that his feet were flat as his body moved sluggish and strange, as if he were drunk, as undone by the shock of Hubert’s return as anyone might expect him to be.</p><p>This was less of a problem than Hilda laying on his bed, her head to the end of it, a pillow under her side as she bent her elbow and rested her head on her wrist as she spoke to Ferdinand below her; her stockinged feet beneath the remaining pillow by the headboard.</p><p>Lorenz stepped over Ferdinand, careful of his hair, to sit on the floor, against the wall farthest from the door, to be somewhat level with the others as he and Hilda recounted Hubert’s tale.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Ferdinand said after a long pause. He rolled about to lean on his arm and look behind him to Lorenz, and then up to Hilda. “Hearing it … makes my recent experience feel a little more real. Like I’ve not simply cried myself into a psychotic break.”</p><p>“You don’t need to keep thanking me,” Lorenz promised. “I … fear I can never make up for how I’ve injured you... Our lands being across the border, I always thought that it was wonderful, to have your friendship so close … but it has only meant that now you and your people will ever see me as an enemy.”</p><p>“I do not see you as an enemy, Lorenz,” Ferdinand insisted, “but that does not mean we can be as we were.”</p><p>“I know.” Lorenz nodded.</p><p>“It also doesn’t mean I don’t still love you.” Ferdinand laughed softly at Lorenz’s confused expression, and shared his smile with Hilda as he assured her, “And you, my dear.”</p><p>Hilda pulled the pillow from under her side to cradle it as she whined, “Am I only an afterthought, Ferdie?”</p><p>He laughed again, more openly. “Hilda, I love you as well as nobles love their secrets.”</p><p>“Oh,” Hilda peeped, eyes wide in amusement, “then you love me very well indeed — is that a diary?”</p><p>From Ferdinand’s prone place on the floor, he had but to reach beneath the bed to retrieve one of Lorenz’s simpler noble secrets, and held up the book for Hilda to collect.</p><p>“It is not a diary,” Lorenz insisted, standing, reaching out as if to try and collect the book from Hilda, but she simply rolled away, opening the thing as he whined, “but it is private.”</p><p>Hilda’s heart broke to recognize what was on the two most recent pages, even as she sat up on the opposite side of the bed, now mostly out of Lorenz’s reach. One was a page that he’d been using as reference with little style notes and rhythmic patterns, and a list of rhyming words, like blood, mud, thud, and so on. While the second page was a rough draft of a poem, of which she only caught a few words in the middle before she closed the book and offered it up to Lorenz.</p><p>But as we are battered and broken with scars<br/>
It is only our sorrow which sufficiently mars<br/>
Our features beyond<br/>
what would be remembered by the dead</p><p>He exhaled through his nose, wishing he’d been working on something more inconsequential or romantic, and accepted the book. Ferdinand was sitting up, resting on his arms on the side of the bed, frowning.</p><p>“What was it?”</p><p>“War poetry,” Lorenz answered, running a hand over the cover. “Well, it is not a whole book of war poetry, but … that is what I’ve been working on.”</p><p>Hilda flopped onto her back, her legs hanging over the opposite side of the bed as her pink hair fluttered out behind her, causing Ferdinand to have to sputter and reposition himself.</p><p>“It was pretentious,” she sighed, smiling at Lorenz.</p><p>“It would have to be,” Ferdinand agreed.</p><p>“It wasn’t meant for consumption,” Lorenz argued, looking at Ferdinand as he sat up beside the bed. Lorenz moved to sit behind him, back to back, to prop up one another.</p><p>“Do you have anything else in there then, meant for an audience?” Ferdinand asked.</p><p>Lorenz hummed a thoughtful noise as he opened his book, and shuffled through a few pages. “Yes. I think...” he said nervously.</p><p>“Would you want us to read it ourselves?” Ferdinand suggested.</p><p>Lorenz could feel a blush in his cheeks now, but he shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s late and you’re too tired to remember by morning anyway.” Ferdinand snorted, and Lorenz took a deep breath before he began to read the words upon the page.</p><p> </p><p>By your grace did I know you<br/>
A shining blade upon the field</p><p>Do not rage<br/>
For your friends yet remember</p><p>Your forgiveness<br/>
Your diplomacy<br/>
Your patience</p><p>Lies steal your kindness<br/>
Battle crushes your soul</p><p> </p><p>By your anger did I know you<br/>
A blooded blade upon the field</p><p>Do not weep<br/>
For your soul yet remembers</p><p>The innocent<br/>
The injured<br/>
The infirm</p><p>Their honor is your virtue<br/>
They live by your hands</p><p> </p><p>By your sorrow do I know you<br/>
A broken blade upon the floor</p><p>Do not fret<br/>
For your hands do yet remember</p><p>How to heal<br/>
How to hold<br/>
How to love another</p><p>Although I fail to protect you<br/>
I can remind you of this</p><p> </p><p>Ferdinand didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, but he had expected Lorenz to choose something more darling to make up for what he’d previously exposed Hilda to. He suspected it was his own fault, for not clarifying to begin with.</p><p>“Was that for someone I know?” Hilda asked softly, and Ferdinand furrowed his brow in confusion as he looked from her to Lorenz.</p><p>“Not only,” Lorenz confessed. “It could be about you … about Ferdinand...”</p><p>Ferdinand was struck with guilt and rolled his shoulders back against Lorenz. “That’s so melancholy,” he whined. He tilted his head back to rest on Lorenz’s shoulder. “Do you have nothing that might put us in better humor?”</p><p>“A lot of it is romantic,” Lorenz admitted, flipping through pages, “but … I know I have some silliness in here. It’s just a matter of… Ah! I have one.”</p><p>Hilda rolled over on the bed to her stomach, cradling the pillow between her chin and crossed arms, eager to hear what Lorenz would self-describe as silly.</p><p> </p><p>I have a friend I’d like to wake on Saturdays, alone<br/>
For when he is left to his devices, the crimes he must atone<br/>
I would not call him innocent, or say that I condone<br/>
But when we are together, I think you can intone<br/>
Our achievements towards the greater good are surprisingly well known<br/>
And yet when my friend jokes with me, I wish he would be grown<br/>
So that I might tell him I adore the scent of his cologne<br/>
Our bond is like a sparring match, our quarrels are full blown<br/>
Perhaps then it is for the best, that our friendship must postpone</p><p> </p><p>As with the previous poem, Lorenz read with his eyes glued to the page, unable to stomach the embarrassment of facing his audience. This meant that while he felt Ferdinand sit up straight away from his shoulder, he did not see that his friend shared a look with Hilda, the pair of them wide-eyed with shock and excitement.</p><p>“Lorenz?” Ferdinand piped.</p><p>Lorenz groaned, tucking the page back into the book, still oblivious to their reaction. “I said it would be silly.”</p><p>Hilda started laughing, and Lorenz couldn’t decipher whether the delayed reaction meant that her joy was at his expense, or in relation to his nonsense.</p><p>Ferdinand was still aghast, and so while his body bounced once as if to laugh, it was only because Hilda was infectious, and not because he found humour in the situation. He cleared his throat before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you were enamored with Claude?”</p><p>
  <b> <em>“...I beg your pardon?”</em> </b>
</p><p>Hilda’s laughter eased enough for her to observe, “He doesn’t even realize.”</p><p>“That was a <b>confession</b>, if I’ve ever heard one,” Ferdinand insisted.</p><p>“It was just a silly poem!” Lorenz insisted, closing the book and sliding it back under the bed.</p><p>“Well then what was that bit about his cologne?” Ferdinand impressed.</p><p>“It <b>rhymed</b>,” Lorenz argued, “and was only meant to represent some friendly, mature subject matter to discuss.”</p><p>“Mature?” Ferdinand repeated, and Lorenz tossed his head back in exasperation, accidentally headbutting he and Ferdinand together. “Ow!”</p><p>Lorenz choked through a cough of pain.</p><p>“Are you going to send it to him?” asked Hilda.</p><p>Rubbing the back of his head, Lorenz mumbled, “I thought I might, but if my meaning is going to be so wrongly misinterpreted, then it might be best if I don’t.”</p><p>“Do! Do!” Ferdinand encouraged, at the same time that Hilda agreed.</p><p>“No, do. He’ll love it.”</p><p>“I did,” Ferdinand teased, elbowing Lorenz behind him.</p><p>A silence passed over them then, each smiling. Lorenz swept a hand over his face to try and dismiss his blush, but when he caught eye contact with Hilda, it felt as if it redoubled in the wake of her amusement.</p><p>“I just caught myself wondering,” Ferdinand began, whispering in the quiet, “whether Hubert would be sleeping now … rather than … thinking of his corpse, or his soul ... or the time between us.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I have you to thank for that.”</p><p>Lorenz hummed. “We should sleep too. We’ve only the vaguest sense of what tomorrow will bring.”</p><p>After an empathetic pause, Ferdinand stood. “I think we’re being ejected, Hilda.”</p><p>Hilda curled herself forward until she could swing her legs over the bed beside Lorenz, kicking at him softly. “You’re too fast to presume, Ferdie,” she teased. “He only said we should sleep, not that we should leave.”</p><p>Lorenz was moving to stand also, and slipped a little at this statement, catching himself on the bed and shooting Hilda a look. She winked at him as she bent to collect her shoes and laughed with Ferdinand as they bid Lorenz a good night, and escaped out into the hallway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have at least 5 romantic poems that Lorenz writes about Hilda prepared for later chapters. It is so much fun to write poetry when you can frame it from someone else's perspective. Takes a bit of the nervousness out of writing "your own" poetry.</p><p>I expect some people might think I've made Lorenz too bold in being able to read his own writing aloud, but ... I do feel like there must be things he's written that he's more willing to share than others, and that it entirely depends on audience; and he feels as if he owes Ferdie so much after the war. Anyway!</p><p>Feel free to offer your thoughts. I'd love a kudos or comment. Sorry about all the spaces in the text.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. As A Rose Misses The Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lorenz imagined Ferdinand must have been frustrated, as the following day, while the nobles from Adrestia and Faerghus were satisfied with the terms set that determined how they were to govern, as well as how they would report to Fae in their new position of Sovereign of Fodlan, there was discord in the Leicester nobility. It had been hinted at several times that this was the way things were leaning, but the reveal of it had been no less insulting to them. Leicester had felt they had won the war, and would expect that they would not be reporting to a monarch after having previously won a different war over the matter. They were ... suitably concerned that they were trading one emperor for another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Faedolyn spent hours in debate with the Leicester nobility. While they easily conceded that there would be no crown guard in the way that Faerghus’s monarchy had operated, they were hesitant to give up all power to the nobility, as the lack of a proper audit system is what had allowed the tragedy of the Ordelia territory, as well as a number other crimes that the war, and even just time at Garreg Mach, had exposed to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It did take the full week to reach amicable terms, and declare Felix Fraldarius and Ferdinand von Aegir the Grand Dukes of Faerghus and Adrestia, respectively. Leicester was given permission to gather their lords at one of their round tables, including those who hadn’t been present at Garreg Mach, to establish who would be Grand Duke of Leicester by the end of the year.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ferdinand packed and left that evening. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t even have four hours of travel from Garreg Mach, as he simply needed to leave the walls to secure the terms of his reunion with Hubert. He’d embraced Lorenz before he left, much to his surprise, and offered a promise to write as soon as they arrived in Enbarr.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of the remaining nobility, those who drank alcohol did so, perhaps not in embarrassing or wasteful quantities, but enough so that the mood was almost celebratory.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After spending a drunken evening with men who possessed twice his years and half his patience, Lorenz was relieved when a familiar voice called out to him across the courtyard, even retreating to his room as he had been. Hilda and he gossiped about the proceedings and their friends and acquaintances for hours afterwards, each admiring  the other in the silent way that friends do. Even when Hilda would taunt and tease, and Lorenz would blush and bluster, it was familiar and safe and welcome, a sign of battles past and a hint of peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you thought Ferdie missed his father,” Hilda giggled, after a conversation about noble courtship, and namely what was happening in Faerghus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz smiled at her, but more thoughtful than her amusement. He tilted his head as he answered, so that his hair swayed softly, “I suppose I thought I would have known, somehow. That Ferdinand fell in love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked around to confirm their seclusion before expressing with a grimace, “I can't believe you voted against me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hilda looked at him, as sharp and vengeful as she’d ever been upon the battlefield, a shield to her allies. “A lot of people will never have the reunion you gave to Hubert... Are you going to tell him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz knew she meant Ferdinand and looked away from her, guilty.  “I wouldn’t do that to you ... or him.” He sighed. “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't think you were so idealistic,” Hilda teased in an attempt to pull them away from the subject. Despite Lorenz’s romanticism, he was ever cynic of what he perceived as optimism, and how else could he be described with regards to how he’d framed Hubert’s reform.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Lorenz hesitated, meeting her eye again. “Well, I suppose I have the Grand Duke of Adrestia in my pocket now, don't I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wilted as she scolded him, “Don't be that way. You did this for Ferdinand only.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubbed at the front of his neck as he tried to make a mental checklist of his motivations, and wondered whether he was even honest enough with himself to accomplish this self-made task. “I hope so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And,” Hilda sighed, conceding something, “Hubert will be a good ally to have also, if we can trust him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we can trust him,” Lorenz agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some laughter cut across the courtyard then, and they both jumped to hear it, but this was only reactionary. When it was obviously the noise of revelers, they shared a smile and started walking, not needing to be caught up in further social politics this night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When are you headed back home?” Lorenz asked softly, holding a door open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In two days,” Hilda confessed, despite her better judgement. She didn’t want to be aware of it, knowing the work that lay ahead, and thinking of the strangeness of being completely separate from her closest friends as their lives spiraled away from each other in a more permanent way than even the war had guaranteed; and there was guilt in this too, as her friends yet lived, scattered and occupied as they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz pulled her from her thoughts with a simple lament.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So soon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You'll miss me?” There was something about the way she’d asked him, as she passed through the open doorway, a breath away from him, her smile back in her eyes, that caused Lorenz’s heart to skip a beat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blushed and swallowed, suddenly aware of his tongue, and concerned about slurring as he answered, “As a rose misses the sun, I will miss you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hilda hummed, comforted by Lorenz’s sincerity, and emboldened by the way his gaze flitted nervously down the line of her dress. “You could ... invite me to spend some time with you? Show me what home looks like, when not at war?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz looked as though she had sobered him, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing, though she smiled as he stammered. “You … you would be interested?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her amusement warred with her agitation. “I thought I'd made that clear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz had still expected to need to win himself back into her good graces to be at this level of intimacy after his proposal to Faedolyn, and then their implied disagreement on Hubert’s handling, but he could see that Hilda was earnest and nodded as they came to a halt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through their walk, their feet had led them to the door of Hilda’s room. Lorenz worried that they should walk past it or turn back, realizing now where they were, but Hilda had stopped, and he wondered perhaps if she’d led them here, and whether she were going to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hilda pressed a hand to Lorenz’s chest, smiling warmly. She blushed about the flush on his neck, creeping into his cheeks, the speed of his heart beneath her hand. Meanwhile he was enthralled, as he suspected all were, with Hilda; able to direct crowds and people and armies with her presence. She would have been a worthy rival if anyone had been able to stand her equal, instead of bending to her approval. It wasn’t a behavior he regretted, even now, as even each direction she offered was work, in it’s own way, and she was ever vigilant of where she was needed. Was that then why they were here by her room also? Because she had once again willed him to help her find repose despite his own desire for conversation?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz gathered himself enough to wrap a hand around her fingers and then stood intentionally still while he indulged in the contact she offered, not motivated by healing and bandages or a quick save on Adrestian soil, just ... touch for the sake of it. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles, hoping he hadn’t clung for too long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a pout, Hilda recognized that even now, Lorenz was too caught up in formalities to even think of kissing her properly. Her heart broke to think of his propriety, despite knowing that it dictated more than how he treated his friends, and that it was a part of him; a frustrating part of a ridiculous man with whom she was still ridiculously enamored.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Lorenz said finally, pressing the side of his index finger to his lips a moment. “It isn't just my house.” His words were careful. Deliberate in a way that had Hilda smiling. “Let me put things in order, and I'll write to you after I've spoken to my father.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'll be looking forward to it,” she promised, bidding him goodnight, slumping against the door after he’d gone, wondering what his smile had meant and whether he truly felt she’d broken his trust in regards to Hubert. She had seen the moment he’d convinced Seteth and Ashe to his favor, and knew his vote was secured, and saw no need to convince herself of anything but her anger. She had to wonder if such a trait was unforgivable, and supposed she would know depending on whether she actually received an invitation to the Gloucester estate.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was originally the end of chapter 1 but then I realized I'd have to keep up a pace of 7k long chapters and ... no thank you. I'd love a kudos or comment! We're almost out of the setting and into Lorenz and Hilda's little love affair.</p>
<p>I'll update tags and rating as necessary when we get there.</p>
<p>Still no editing being done on this except my cursory glances, so, let me know if you see mistakes I can easily fix. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tell Me The Rest Of It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lorenz had expected his father to be stressed when he returned home, but he hadn’t expected him to be so inconsolable. Distressed by the decisions made at Garreg Mach, and publicly humiliated by the previous Grand Duke of Leicester, Holst Goneril and a small army of Almyrans, Count Gloucester sought to improve his name with the lesser lords by plying favors against each other. Patiently, Lorenz simply interpreted the mess as politics as usual, and helped and hosted as he was asked, and as opportunities presented themselves.</p><p>It wasn’t until his father had something of an outburst when he’d discovered Lorenz had accepted the post from an innocuous messenger that he started worrying about his father’s actions, more than his mood.</p><p>The next few days, Lorenz would try to find little transitory moments with his father’s guests, like coming from the gates to the main house, to subtly and indirectly ask about their business, and how they were affected by the war. Very little information was yielded in this way, but slowly letters started coming for <em>him</em>, from neighboring lords, old allies and enemies both, asking about the state of their farmlands, about why some of them weren’t hearing from Count Gloucester, and about what he thought of his father’s monetary decisions.</p><p>Without even thinking about it Lorenz penned glowing letters, emphatic apologies and gentle reminders that Gloucester had been, in one way or another, antagonized by both factions of the war, and recovery was proceeding only as swiftly as the Goddess willed, regardless of the efforts of man.</p><p>His opinion could weigh a little, but his composure would not.</p><p>He was so very relieved to receive letters from Fae, Hilda, Ferdinand and Leonie during these days.</p><p>Lorenz had been home nearly five weeks before he saw that his father’s calendar was beginning to ease. It was the Ethereal Moon, and it seemed like the perfect time to ask after inviting Hilda; he was desperate for better company, and the next round table discussion was to be in a week’s time — with any luck she could follow him home from there, and spend a week or two … or longer if the snows were bad … perhaps a lifetime.</p><p>His father knew him too well. When Lorenz made his request, his father hadn’t even acknowledged the words of Lorenz’s invitation and instead addressed the heart of the matter.</p><p>He had smiled, gentle and fleeting, as if suffering some disappointment. “Lorenz, my son. I imagine you must have felt quite the kinship with your classmates, first through the trials of school and then the tragedy of war. So much so, that you even orchestrated actions against me … You needn’t argue. I don’t blame you. However, you must know because of this that Hilda is not your ally? You may feel the bond that only time, and perhaps even intimacy, has forced between the two of you, but that is not partnership. You will yet find someone who recognizes the obligations of your nobility, and the needs of your heart. You needn’t stoop to marrying the youngest Goneril.”</p><p>Lorenz had been aghast. It took him a moment to swallow and find his tongue again.</p><p>“Does my judgement mean so little?” Still his voice died on the last word, realizing to himself that his judgement did mean so little, and not only in this regard. He thought of defending his father in words and letters, and not only recently, but over a span of months and years, only to be met with tragic truths the whole of his life.</p><p>“You are forthright and discerning in all other matters,” his father assured him. “It is only your romantic heart which can get the better of you, but with the proper diligence, even that cannot blind you.”</p><p>“Blind me?” Lorenz asked, his voice flat, his shock giving way to anger, and disappointment. “House Goneril is the foremost family in Leicester as things stand, and yet you have the gall to say that if I should desire to marry Hilda, a decorated war hero who’s critical mind I have been praising for nearly a decade, that this should mean I was stooping as if to some lesser station?” Although he would, he hoped, still be as interested in Hilda if she, as Faedolyn, were a commoner. That he and Hilda had so many shared experiences because she was a noble was not the same empty desire to marry into nobility, as he’d once believed was important.</p><p>His father’s face darkened. “We were at civil war in all but name, Lorenz. The Gonerils have not only opposed us at near every round table as readily as the von Riegan — they have also killed our people. We were but a breath away from ceding to the Empire, drying ink on pages … when you <strong>had</strong> to return to Garreg Mach, on the whimsy of some promise that by rights should have been empty—”</p><p>“You will not speak ill of Faedolyn,” Lorenz insisted. “We won the war.”</p><p>“If we won the war, then why are we struggling?” his father spat. “To honor every agreement from Adrestia to Almyra? There should have been a losing side. Instead only I am at a loss.”</p><p>“What are you saying?”</p><p>“That is a different discussion.” Lorenz’s father stood from the desk where he’d slumped, and rested on his wrists at the window, watching the snow fall. “You will not be marrying a Goneril. I will not have her in my house, literally or otherwise. Not unless you can find it in you to use such a union to secure influence over her brother,” he looked over his shoulder at Lorenz with half a laugh before looking back to the window. “I thought not.”</p><p>Lorenz took to his feet also, clenching and stretching his hands. “You cannot simply turn your back to me and call the discussion ended.” He wanted to use this opportunity to expose every grievance, every bad decision, to ask after Godfrey and any other assassinations, failed, completed or planned, that he wasn’t privy to, but these were too big, too much to focus upon. He could only focus upon the present. “Are we struggling?”</p><p>“Not yet,” his father answered, turning to lean on the wall, crossing his arms, “but soon. The size of our territory and the losses of the war mean that we will fail to collect our crops. Food will rot in the ground and the few people around to witness it will be insufficient to the task of transporting it across the empty fields.”</p><p>Lorenz felt his heart tighten. “Tell me the rest of it.”</p><p>His father sighed and waved his hand absently as he spoke, “Adrestia or Leicester was going to lose the war; the Flame Emperor was looking for reform, and Leicester could not abide Adrestia’s brazen use of power. A decisive victory was going to have to follow … so I played both sides, much as I could. It kept the commonfolk alive, and the nobility was always placated by my reasoning as to why I could not break ties with the opposite side. Deals and debts and promises were made. Half of them should have burned with their loss in the war ... but now we’re all playing nice in Fodlan, so all debts must be honored — if that is even possible with the state of our territory — and we do not have sufficient funds to recoup our losses. The way things appear, we will not be able to afford to hire the hands or supplies we will need to protect our people or our territory next winter. We are already facing the debtors <em>this</em> winter.”</p><p>“Wuh-we,” Lorenz squinted his eyes closed for a moment, collecting himself, adjusting his hair. “We could sell land. There are those with the funds to protect the commonfolk...”</p><p>“Land is the only measure of power we’ve left to us, what with these rules you’ve brought home with you.”</p><p>“Power is an exercise, it is not a trophy,” Lorenz snapped. “I will not allow people to die to appease the pride of <b>any</b> nobility if I can help it. That includes you.” Lorenz watched his father’s eyes widen in surprise, and felt his own do the same. They’d disagreed before, but this was different.</p><p>Lorenz had too much experience outside the confines of his house, he knew better than to believe that his father knew best. He could hear his own voice in his mind arguing on his father’s behalf; that power is what kept the commonfolk safe, and that abandoning it could be as dangerous as anything he might propose ... and yet still he stood firm.</p><p>“If you have admitted that you are insufficient at the task of leading us through this … <em> mess </em> — of your own creation — then … perhaps it is time for you to retire.”</p><p>His father laughed, mirthless. “You think you could do better? You’re not yet ready.”</p><p>“You would have had me surpass you and lead the Alliance if only it meant you kept your position, so that it would be your point of pride, and not mine.” Lorenz said in a fury. “Yes, I very much think that I can do better than condemning myself and my people.”</p><p>“You are out of your element, and you are out of line,” his father boomed, standing straight, his arms at his sides. “You seek to emulate Holst, is it? A war veteran? A duke? Risen to power before his time because his father was weak and failing?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Did his sister convince you of this? And you simply sought to advance your plans because of some misguided sense of justice?”</p><p>“If my sense of justice is askew then the fault lies no farther than your door.” The argument was exhausting Lorenz, but this was … beyond anything he could have imagined. “No one has put me up to this, nor is it a decision I take lightly, but as you have always taught me, I am ready to step forward if there is a failing in leadership.” Lorenz realized now that this was never his father’s intention. He had meant to teach to step forward if there was a gap in power … a far different thing.</p><p>There was a pause, a long silence, and Lorenz wondered whether he might be on the verge of being disowned and disinherited, but instead his father smiled again, and that was worse.</p><p>“You will not find me a failure come spring, my son. I may be irritated now, but I am not without wit. I will protect you.”</p><p>“Protect <em> me? </em> ” Lorenz gasped. “You have been ready to throw me in front of every encroaching threat for the past six years. In front of every criticism. And I have met them. Perhaps not well, but … as you’ve taught me. I required <b>no</b> protection.” He took a deep breath. “You will let me fix this, or I will be the threat to be silenced. I will seek every opportunity to expose us. I will bolster your every enemy. I will—”</p><p>“You would have me lock you away?” his father threatened.</p><p>“To keep from being part of this? That would be one option.” He hissed softly, losing eye contact, unable to even admit in his father’s presence, that he could not fight him, despite any love lost over the years.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>Lorenz looked back in surprise and his father said, silken and sickly, “You think you can do better. I will give you reign for as long as you like. You can address the paperwork and respond to all callers. I will endure a short reprieve at your cousin’s home, until you come in search for me, for advice, or mercy, both of which I will be ready to grant you.”</p><p>“And if I don’t?”</p><p>“You will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah, this doesn't even come close to addressing my issues with Count Gloucester and the fact that you can't address any of them in game, and it might be the Dumbest way to frame this argument. But writing it was cathartic. So.</p><p>Hope reading it was kinda fun? fakjsdhfkla</p><p>Still no editing being done, would still love a kudos or comment.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. About As Chaotic As You'd Expect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rumors of Lorenz taking over as head of his house reached Hilda the same day she received a letter from him, apologizing that there was simply too much going on for him to feel comfortable inviting her. He had only spoken of what was going on in his territory in the vaguest of terms, and initially she had assumed it had been to keep from boring her, but if the rumors were true, she had to worry about him. She suspected he would be delicate if his father had died, but no one seemed to have a proper explanation for why Lorenz might be orienting his house, and where ‘Count Gloucester’ might be found.</p><p>Insisting that she didn’t know anything about what was going on with house Gloucester had taken more than her usual amount of convincing when Holst had asked her in the presence of his advisors, but she’d been able to glare down anyone who seemed on the verge of asking to see Lorenz’s letter, as ambiguous and mundane as it had been. Hilda didn’t reply to him, both unsure of what or how to ask or accuse, and relieved that she would be seeing him soon anyway, the round table forthcoming.</p><p>She had never really attended the meetings before the war, which was not unusual for a younger child of a noble house. Somehow, it was when things had been chaotic, that was when there had been time and opportunity to go in support of Claude and her brother. With the war over, it felt a little strange to be attending, and Hilda worried over being humiliated by being asked to leave, or worse, letting her own lethargy get the better of her, and nodding lazily through the meeting. </p><p>Her mood brightened considerably when she caught sight of Marianne and the Margrave at the site of the meeting.</p><p>“It is good to see you,” Marianne admitted, quietly, “but I do wish he had left me behind. <em> Our guest </em> is not yet recovered, and I think my adoptive father only wishes to have me at his side to lay credit to what little I contributed to the Battle of the Ten Elites.”</p><p>“What? That’s awful,” Hilda whined. “Do you want me to make a scene?” When Marianne’s eyes widened, Hilda offered more kindly, “Or ask Holt to thank you, specifically, for saving the delicate damsel of his noble house?” She was exaggerating, and Marianne was giggling, and so Hilda was satisfied in wrapping her arm about her friend’s shoulders and finding somewhere to sit in anticipation of the other guests.</p><p>They gossiped about Faerghus and Fodlan, the recovery of the forest with absence of Maurice, and the sorrows and frustrations of Marianne’s indefinite house guest, until someone came looking for them, the meeting about to begin.</p><p>The ranking nobility sat at a table, and just beyond and behind them each had three seats for advisors, staff and … whatever it was Hilda might be counted as. Lesser lords were considered present for the meeting by their presence at the venue, but technically weren’t even allowed in the room, to not sway the attention of the ranking lords.</p><p>Beside Holst’s left, Hilda was practically at Lorenz’s side. He was seated as if representing Gloucester, staff behind him, reviewing paperwork. He seemed either utterly engrossed or entirely vacant, distracted and dissociative as he sometimes was. Hilda couldn’t catch his eye, and so winked at Lysithea across the table, mouthing “I don’t know” in her direction in regards to whatever it was that Lysithea was trying to subtly ask.</p><p>“Lysithea,” Holst called, and Hilda brought the back of her hand to her mouth to stop a giggle.</p><p>“Yes, your grace?”</p><p>“I understand it is Countess Ordelia, now? A title well earned.”</p><p>“Thank you. I will live up to the weight of it,” she said, her thanks and good humor fading into a threat, as she eyed the others at the table.</p><p>“I’m sure,” Holst agreed, a low rumble of amusement in his voice. He turned to look at Lorenz, and Hilda worried when she saw that the whole of the table turned with him.</p><p>“Lorenz, are further congratulations warranted? For the sake of the meeting, are we to address you as Count Gloucester?”</p><p>Hilda wondered whether Lorenz might’ve gone pale but for that complexion of his. He smiled stiffly at his audience, sitting up straight, shaking his head.</p><p>“No. No, I’ve inherited no title,” he said softly. He cleared his throat and spoke with more of his usual tenor as he declared, “My father is handling the recovery rather more directly. As such, I <em> am </em> managing the affairs of house Gloucester.” Lorenz offered up some of his documents to Holst, clearly an explanation of his station, signed by the Count. “I trust that won’t be a problem?”</p><p>“You won’t be representing house Gloucester well if there are no problems,” teased the Margrave, suddenly the eldest of the Great Lords. “Problems are all we are, here.”</p><p>A few people snickered and shifted in their seats. Holst gestured to Margrave Edmund with his hand as he addressed Lorenz, “The nature of democracy.” He smiled and shook his head. “No, it is your father’s right to send a proxy to these meetings, and you are a welcome addition.”</p><p>Hilda winced as Lorenz’s posture relaxed, just a little. It wasn’t like him to be so publicly vulnerable in a political forum. She wondered whether it was just the nerves of his first such meeting, or if there was more to his discomposure. She was sure Holst would expect <b>her</b> to expose the full explanation of what Lorenz had meant by saying his father was “indisposed.”</p><p>The meeting began as most had during the war, with business that could both be described as mundane and of vital importance; borders, supply lines, road conditions and general security at issue. Sometime afterward, they’d taken to speculating about the state of Fodlan, and all the empty seats in Faerghus, which had led the conversation to their next element, the position of Grand Duke.</p><p>A pause fell over the table, a silence so thick and stifling that Hilda doubted anyone could sleep through it.</p><p>“This can’t be a difficult matter, can it?” asked Lorenz, looking around the table before settling his gaze on Holst. “You lead us, even now.”</p><p>Hilda could feel Holst’s advisors brighten as they straightened in their seats, and rolled her eyes. Holst smiled at Lorenz, amusement and caution in his composure, “That is certainly not what Count Gloucester would contribute.”</p><p>Lorenz blushed. “No, but <b> <em>I</em> </b> am here. With his authority, if not his opinion.” His hand wavered nervously, his thumb rubbing the side of his index finger.</p><p>“I think the nature of the role has changed too much, to simply put it to a vote,” Holst said, and Hilda coughed in an attempt to hide how entertained she was by the disappointment of his advisors. “The Council at Garreg Mach was generous in allowing us time to sort our lands before deciding on the succession of power, already structured as we are, a framework for Faerghus and Adrestia. I think we should take advantage of this.”</p><p>“I disagree,” Lorenz argued. “The sooner we can represent ourselves as structured in front of Fodlan’s court, the stronger we will appear.”</p><p>“Faerghus and Adrestia are broken and disorganized. Declaring someone Grand Duke has done nothing to inspire feelings of strength or unity,” Lysithea pointed out.</p><p>“True,” Lorenz conceded.</p><p>“Then let us put <em> this </em> to a vote,” Holst suggested, and Lorenz’s head fell in a nod. “All in favor of waiting to elect the Grand Duke of Leicester?”</p><p>Three hands raised, and Holst nodded, quickly changing the subject.</p><p> </p><p>Hilda had hoped to catch Lorenz as soon as the meeting was over, to avoid her brother’s curiosity, but Lorenz called to Margrave Edmund and ended up in whispered conversation with him as the Gonerils made their way from the room.</p><p>“Your friend spent months organizing little agreements to situate himself to be Grand Duke of Leicester if Claude fell,” Holst said softly at the end of the hall, and Hilda tilted her head, not knowing the truth of that, but not doubting it for a moment. “And now that he’s here representing his house, his ambition is gone.”</p><p>“You want me to find out—?” Hilda started to ask, but Holst pulled her into a room and closed the door before his advisors could follow, and she let her expression twist into shock.</p><p>Holst looked around the room to confirm their seclusion before he shook his head, “No. I’ll be Grand Duke if that’s the end of it — despite being a general, and Goddess-willing we will see no more of war.” He groaned and swiped his hands back through his hair, chin length and pink. “I’ll be even more of a puppet to my advisors than I am now.”</p><p>“Hey,” Hilda started to say, as if to calm him.</p><p>“<b>You</b> would make a better Grand Duke than I would.”</p><p>“Eugh!” she exclaimed, stepping away from him. “Don’t say that.”</p><p>He laughed softly. “I know you’d hate it.”</p><p>“That’s an understatement,” she groaned.</p><p>“But can you really imagine Margrave Edmund as Grand Duke? And Lysithea has spoken too publicly about the dissolution of house Ordelia.”</p><p>“So…” She wrinkled her brow. “Are you asking me to convince him—?”</p><p>“No,” Holst said, louder than he’d been speaking before. He continued at a hush, “No, I don’t want that. As I said, I can do it, if that’s what Leicester needs … but you remember when I was titled Duke?”</p><p>Hilda still looked confused and Holst sighed. “It was hard, Hilda. I mean, it was fine, because there were the Almyrans to deal with, and I am very good at fighting, at predicting armies and enemies and … that wasn’t the whole job. Even now, I rely on our father quite heavily … and I can’t imagine Count Gloucester is very supportive.”</p><p>“Oh,” Hilda said, surprised with her brother.</p><p>“Yes, oh,” Holst said with a smile. “Lorenz has been trailing his father for as long as we’ve known them, and yet, the way you speak of him is worlds different than … the general consensus on Count Gloucester.” He shook his head. “If his father is making him feel insufficient to the task, then I just want you to remind him that he yet has reason to feel ambitious. He’s as prepared for this as anyone might be, and I think after heading his house for a few months, with proper support... I would rather hear his opinion then on the matter, than have him pass the power to me now simply because of the initial stress of finally organizing his house.”</p><p>“You don’t think he’s cracked under pressure?” Hilda prodded, smiling, as the answer was obviously no.</p><p>“Family is a stranger enemy than any opposing force,” Holst said, his mouth slanted sadly. “Until he abandons his duties and disappears into anonymity, no, I’m not worried.”</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes the meetings lasted weeks, but this gathering was intentionally curt, organizing simple solutions so that each member of the nobility could quickly return home with news for their people, as restoration, healing and rationing continued. As such, dinner was the only time that really stood as social gathering during the political appointment, with everyone preparing to leave the following day.</p><p>Hilda forced her friends to sit together; Lysithea, Marianne, herself and Lorenz. The food looked bland anyway, and so she ignored her plate to wrap her arms around Marianne.</p><p>“Hilda!” Marianne peeped, looking around in embarrassment.</p><p>“Oh, but I’ve missed you,” Hilda insisted. “Only a few months apart, but that’s the way it’s always going to be now — and longer if I don’t trail my brother. I was spoiled by your presence for years, and didn’t know it.”</p><p>“We’re not little girls anymore,” Marianne said in her soft voice. “People are staring.”</p><p>“Ugh, alright,” Hilda said, pulling away. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”</p><p>However, as she pulled away, she took Marianne’s left hand in her right and pulled it down on their side of the table, linking their fingers together.</p><p>“How childish,” Lysithea groaned, though she blushed and smiled.</p><p>“Loving your friends is not childish,” Hilda whined. “Marianne, hold Lysithea’s hand for me.”</p><p>“Then how would I eat?”</p><p>“I’ll feed you,” Hilda said with a laugh. She turned her head to see Lorenz’s reaction, and saw that he was in hushed conversation with a minor noble on his right, and caught a few words of his somber tone.</p><p>“No, I’m sorry, you’ll have to send this message to the estate.”</p><p>Leaving him to his conversation, Hilda turned back to Lysithea, “So what’s it like to be a Countess, Lady Lysithea?”</p><p>“About as chaotic as you’d expect,” Lysithea began, before recounting a number of little tales that the noblewomen could contribute to.</p><p>Eventually, Hilda could tell that Lorenz was paying attention again, and realized she could tease him, Marianne and Lysithea by circling back around to the origin of their conversation. “I always thought that being a Countess sounded so much more romantic than other titles, even moreso than Queen.” Marianne blushed and Lysithea scoffed and so Hilda added, “Perhaps it’s because it shares so many letters with ‘courtesan.’”</p><p>“That doesn’t—” Lorenz started, and Hilda laughed, interrupting him. She was pleased to have enticed him into the conversation, if only for a few words. He rolled his eyes, embarrassed about reacting to her nonsense.</p><p>“I can decidedly say that I anticipate no romance in my future,” Lysithea said with a strange sort of finality when Hilda’s laughter died down.</p><p>“It may yet find you,” Marianne warned, poking at her plate.</p><p>Lorenz hummed awkwardly, and Hilda looked to see that his eyes had met with another man across the room, this one she didn’t know.</p><p>“I think,” Lorenz said, taking to his feet, “that it is about time I retire.”</p><p>“You’ve barely eaten anything,” Hilda insisted, but Lorenz just shook his head.</p><p>“He’s probably right. It’ll be a long ride tomorrow, and I’d rather not feel bloated before bed,” Lysithea agreed, standing.</p><p>“Oh,” Hilda whined. “Well let me embrace you, in case we miss each other tomorrow.”</p><p>She hugged each of them in turn, and sat in subdued conversation with Marianne until she too was ready to rest.</p><p> </p><p>It was late when Hilda went in search of Lorenz. She was surprised to see light filtering down the hallway where she expected to find his room, but not as surprised as he looked to see her walk in front of his open door. He sat across from it, next to a burning lamp, looking very tired.</p><p>“Hilda?”</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>He stumbled to close the door behind her, and was just as swift in locking it. “Nothing.”</p><p>“Nothing?” she pressed, looking from the locked door to his face.</p><p>“I’ve just … been having a rough go of it.”</p><p>“I can see that,” she agreed, taking his seat. “What’s going on?”</p><p>Lorenz adjusted his hair and then held his neck as he sighed, clearly calculating what to trust her with, and that hurt, but Hilda was patient enough to wait for his answer at least.</p><p>“I’ve just … had to make some decisions that were not very popular, and-and-and every other minor lord seems to think I can be intimidated into action simply because I do not have my father’s reputation.” He sat on the bed, hands at his sides. “They’re wrong of course, but it is hard to convince them.”</p><p>“What decisions?” Hilda asked sharply, as his appointment had been little more than rumor to her until she arrived, she’d heard nothing of any sweeping changes in Gloucester.</p><p>Lorenz licked his lips. “Not… They weren’t public.”</p><p>“Alright?” she agreed, not understanding.</p><p>Hilda didn’t press upon Lorenz’s silence, but, slowly, she did move to sit next to him, and take his hand in hers as she had Marianne’s a few hours ago. His breath hitched at the touch, but he let it happen, and smiled sadly at their joined fingers.</p><p>“Were you … looking for me?” Lorenz asked.</p><p>“Only because you were acting so strangely,” Hilda whispered with a smile. “Is there anything I can do for you? You know, even Holst is worried.”</p><p>Lorenz groaned and his thumb pinched around her palm.</p><p>“Don’t be embarrassed,” she insisted, shifting a little closer to him. “Don’t you remember that he would have called you brother?”</p><p>He sighed, but there was something about the noise of it that Hilda could’ve mistaken it for a sob. Hilda pursed her lips together.</p><p>“I’m sorry the decisions have been so hard.” She wished she could be more specific, but if Lorenz would tell her nothing, then her support could only be vague.</p><p>She meant to say more, but Lorenz said instantly, “The decisions have not been hard. I. I need you to know that, so that if I tell you, or if you discover them, I need you to know that I have every confidence in making the <b>right</b> decisions. They are simply … taxing.”</p><p>Hilda wrapped her opposite hand around the back of Lorenz’s palm as she agreed, “I’m sorry they’ve been so taxing then. I trust you’re making the right decisions.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he answered, small and reserved.</p><p>She waited, and wondered, and, guiltily, greedily, asked, “Speaking of decisions…?”</p><p>“Hilda, I—”</p><p>“I could help you,” she promised.</p><p>“No,” Lorenz said without thinking, and quickly saw that they both looked heartbroken. “No, I can’t.”</p><p>“Ever?” she pressed, obviously confused by his hesitation.</p><p>Lorenz could only imagine what she was thinking, with him positioned to make his own decisions and reneging on the implications of their earlier conversations, but he could not propose to her now, he could not be humiliated nor humiliate her depending on the progress of the coming months, nor endanger her if any of his father’s business associates decided to be more brazen than interrupting his dinner.</p><p>
  <span>Hilda had only meant for him to realize that whatever he was going through was transitory, with an end forthcoming, and that he would not ever and always be burdened like this.</span>
</p><p>“I … I don’t know.” Lorenz made to pull away and then huffed a laugh when Hilda tightened her grip. “I need more time.”</p><p>He wondered whether she would insult him, or offer an ultimatum, certainly having other options for her needs and her life than sitting in wait for him, but Hilda only nodded, gentle and sympathetic. She relaxed her hands, shifting them back and forth against Lorenz’s one, an idle massage.</p><p>“What were you asking Margrave Edmund about?”</p><p>Lorenz’s elbow twitched, but he didn’t pull away this time. This, he felt he could tell her, uncertain if Margrave Edmund or Marianne might anyway. “I thought I’d sell him some land … but his territory is too close, and he knew too well my bargaining position. He asked for Myrddin.”</p><p>There was a lot here for Hilda to process. “Myrddin?”</p><p>“It has strategic and historical significance. If I did, he would surely tax me for use of the bridge, and…” Lorenz hesitated, not wanting to voice further concerns about pincering himself in the range of a man who should be an ally. “And yet I still might.”</p><p>“Lorenz. Why?”</p><p>“The Gloucester territory weathered the war far worse than … than is yet public knowledge.”</p><p>Hilda squeezed her thumb down the crook of his palm to his wrist, and then let go, to try and bring weight to her words. “I’m sure you’re up to the task of its restoration, Lorenz.” He linked his hands between his knees. “Have you written to Claude?”</p><p>“I—? No?” He seemed truly surprised that she asked, and Hilda giggled.</p><p>“It would be good for you to remember you have friends and allies. Write to me again when you get home, and Claude, and Faedolyn, and Ferdinand — and anyone else you’ve felt bonded to. It can just be friendly conversation, but otherwise, tell us how we can help when opportunities arise, won’t you?”</p><p>“I feel it would be unjust of me to seek support when we should still be celebrating the success of the war, and while each of my … my friends have their own sets of problems to work through, but in the least, I can recognize the importance of the written word. I’ll do as you say,” Lorenz agreed, nodding, his expression full of weakness.</p><p>She leaned towards him so that he blushed from her proximity. “Lorenz?”</p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>Hilda swallowed. “Please, don’t let me become an acquaintance.”</p><p>He shook his head, smiling sympathetically. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”</p><p>He checked the hallway before permitting her to leave, not only for propriety, and, Hilda noted, closed the door when she’d gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had pictured Lorenz being so much more snippy and short when I conceptualized this chapter, so that another character could comment on whether being head of house Gloucester just ... did that to people. But. He ended up not that way? I hope that wasn't just my inability to write anger, and was instead because I was being consistent with my depiction of his character ...</p><p>Hope you're still enjoying it so far. Sorry if it's taking a while to get where I'm going with this. Would love a kudos or comment. Still no real editing being done... ^^;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Happy Birthday Hilda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ever the social butterfly, Hilda spent the next few months keeping contact with old friends and building up new ones. It had been a long time since she’d had staff to mend her clothes and do her hair, and after so long, it felt invasive, but that still didn’t mean she’d rather be doing the tasks herself exactly, and so Hilda tried to be very personable with her servants, making them hair pins and criticizing the length of the day and the weather, to try and find solidarity before offering boisterous and emphatic thanks. She extended her grace and charm to minor lords at her brother’s behest, but this was boring, and their smiles wore her thin, better with friends, and Holst when he had time for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lorenz was a little more emotionally available in the few letters she received before the next round table meeting, but just as noncommittal in describing the affairs of his house. The rumors could neither be entirely true or false, and painted a tumultuous picture, with confirmation at least that Count Gloucester had been seen at his home and had made a small public appearance at some ceremony celebrating repairs completed in one of his major cities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When time came for the next round table, Hilda’s father had fallen ill, and though he insisted he was fine, she and Holst had shared a look, and Hilda knew she’d be staying behind. She wasn’t a healer, and suspected she wasn’t even her father’s preferred company, what with his love of adventure and her relief in repose, but there was comfort and assurance in the familiarity of each other’s company. Hilda recounted a few of her own adventures at his request, and brought him broth and a blanket when he wished to walk out to the stables and give thanks to the wyverns that had seen his family safely through battles untold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was feeling better within the week, though it was another nine days before Holst returned with plans and news, and letters from Marianne and Lysithea … but not Lorenz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda tried to convince herself that this didn’t bother her; she hadn’t sent Holst with personalized messages for her friends after all, and had only requested he share her apologies and love if anyone were to ask or if there were an appropriate moment. However reading and rereading the letters she had received made the absence of Lorenz’s experience and friendship sharper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still winter, and it felt cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon after dinner, Hilda left to lay in bed. She started writing responses to her friends, but quickly abandoned the task to let sleep take her worries away from her instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock rapped on her door, and for the first three tries she groaned at her intruder, wrapping herself more tightly in her covers, though this was a normal reaction to exhaustion and lack of urgency, rather than an indicator of her mood. When Hilda finally did answer the door, she was met with one of her usual servants, smiling apologetically, holding a tray supporting a card, a sealed envelope, and a small cake about the size of Hilda’s palm, dusted in burned sugar and cinnamon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lady. The cooking staff followed the instructions to the letter,” she said, offering the tray to Hilda. “Lord Holst says you should enjoy it in peace, and discuss with him tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda wrinkled her nose as she wondered aloud, “Holst’s instruction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would hate to think that her upset earlier had been so obvious that her brother was trying to brighten her up with desserts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An admirer, I think,” offered the servant. “If you’ve not the eyes or patience for it, I could read the letter for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda blushed, straightening, “No, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be fine,” the servant supplied, and Hilda nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bid each other goodnight and Hilda rushed to put the tray on a desk, sitting down and holding her hands in front of her mouth as she reviewed the contents for another moment. She could guess, or hope, who it was from, especially based on it being from ‘an admirer.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holst had stopped bringing proposals to her attention when she’d written to him rather directly about what she’d politely called her admiration of Lorenz, which had been what had inspired him to say that he would be happy to count Lorenz among their family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached for the card, and smiled at Lorenz’s long strokes of penmanship, dictating a recipe. Before opening the letter, she simply had to taste it, and poured herself some water from a pitcher in her room in anticipation of eating dry cake alone in the late evening, but was instead surprised by how moist and rich the little delight was, saturated with honey and cream, the cinnamon sticking to her tongue. She wondered from where Lorenz pulled the recipe, and ate three more bites before dusting her hands and opening the envelope, addressed to her name, sealed in wax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My Dear Friend,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hesitate to call you my dearest friend only because I should have remembered your birthday before the date of it. I’m sorry to have missed it, both in writing and by my presence. In trying to think of an appropriate apology, I could not help to remember your expressed desire to see my home, when not at war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is yet a struggle to return to the prosperity I remember, but some things are simpler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I asked my staff for the proper recipe of one of house Gloucester’s finest cakes, and thought to stumble through the preparation when I saw you next at the round table. Perhaps it is for the best that you were not in attendance, allowing me to ask your brother if your house would have the necessary supplies on hand, and if it were appropriate to send my gift in this way </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> sparing you my cooking, and allowing a professional to prepare something that might be more authentic, and palatable. I do hope it is to your taste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Happy birthday, Hilda.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would that I could offer you more than well wishes for the year, when your letters offer me so much more than the word comfort can begin to describe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truly, I don’t mean to be distant. I write to you as much as I dare with the way things sit now for my house. And a little more boldly in this context, where I can hand my words directly to your brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sooner than expected, I am travelling to Adrestia for a month, to settle some of my father’s affairs, and to see Ferdinand. If my father or my retainers do not keep their word whilst I am away, my whole life might be rather more complicated in a few weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wish me luck. Either I will need it, or, if I don’t, I will cherish the thought of your encouragement all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yours in confidence,</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda wished she’d eaten the whole of the little cake before reading Lorenz’s letter, as heartsick and lonely as it had left her, drying her mouth in a way that could not be helped by cream or water. Much as he clearly wanted her to think of him, Hilda couldn’t bear to under the circumstances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cleanly set his letter and recipe aside to cry about later, and gathered a rubber, some pencils, and a square of paper, and set about drawing horses and wyverns and strange spiraling antlers as she finished her cake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>The following day she really got to work on gifts for her friends, preparing a few different molds so that she could make little resin beads less than a </span> <span>quarter of an inch wide, and a few larger baubles. Many considered her hobby inconvenient, but she couldn’t understand how it was any less convenient than a hobby that required the cutting and fletching of arrows, the maintenance of a saddle, or any number of other activities that required time and room and noise. Separating her resin, some left clear, she dyed tiny batches of it as Ignatz had taught her, with dry pigments like powdered stone and spices.</span></p><p>
  <span>It took longer than one afternoon to get all the colors she’d wanted, but there were enough moving parts to keep her from distraction or despair when Holst would run out of people he wanted her to entertain, or convince of one plan of his or another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made eleven bracelets featuring eleven resin beads, little metal rings and a few metal tubular beads, holding them in place, properly distanced. A bracelet for each member of their class, and a bead for each member; the eight of their original class, Flayn, Sylvain and Faedolyn. Hilda was especially proud to achieve a differentiation of yellow and gold, for Raphael and Claude, whereas some of the others had been easier, such as using more dried black currants to distinguish royal purple from powder purple, for Lorenz and Lysithea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda didn’t expect any of them to wear them, exactly, but hoped that at least they would be nice to have, not knowing when they’d all be together again, or even able to visit the site of Ignatz’s painting at Garreg Mach. However, with this feeling in mind, she did want to provide a few more personal gifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With more of the powder purple, she made a set of earrings for Lysithea. With some of the clear resin, she preserved a drawing of a black horse, cut out to lay on a background of real pressed lily of the valleys against yellow fabric, and set the whole thing as a brooch for Marianne. Hoping to have learned from this experience, she tried to repeat it with a white cutout of a deer’s head, white flower petals cut up and dropped into the drying resin, and then set against a black paper to hopefully resemble a night sky, as a brooch for Claude. She took the remaining orange, and set it as a large bead on a clamp, such as what she would use for a hair clip, if a little more industrial, for Leonie. Experimenting again, she used the remainder of the red to make a large square bead for a diamond shaped brooch for Sylvain. She prepared no additional jewelry for Ignatz, but did set aside a bottle of the black currants for his use. And all this so Hilda could work herself up to making a brooch and ring for Lorenz, without worrying about the weight of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each was made with royal purple resin, the brooch consisting of six beads; one large oval and five tiny little diamonds to dangle at the base of it. The ring had an ovular bead also, and was of a wire that she felt would probably far underclass any outfit of his, but she just wanted it to be done, and to not have to bother anyone else with her gifts by asking after materials. It would be fine, and he could be the one left to wonder about her meaning when left to discover that she hadn’t simply made a gift for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four days before Lorenz’s “one month” was up, Hilda sent out her gifts and hopeful letters to each of her friends, except Lorenz, waiting to hear whether his life had complicated as predicted. She did write to Ferdinand however, to ask about Lorenz’s visit.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is short, but I wrote it between tasks at work and it brings the fic up to "March," Lone Wolf Moon, which is great, because I have a timeline and we're advancing!</p><p>I was up in the air about in what way I wanted to lay claim to Sylvain or not but, it's there now. He's in the class. I actually have almost 0 memory of who I recruited in my first playthrough, except definitely Sylvain and Dorothea - and not Ferdinand (or Felix, who I kited around a map for an unnecessary number of rounds so that I only had to fight Dimitri and not him). Did anyone else experience Dorothea's sorrow after you defeat Ferdie? Chilling and heartbreaking.</p><p>I'd love a kudos or comment. Thank you to the guests who've left some already! &lt;333</p><p>Edit: Oh shit I remember! Jvxkgxg I wanted to recruit the bisexuals my first playthrough, so Mercedes, Linhardt, Dorothea and Sylvain. I recruited all the non students, and recruited everyone possible in subsequent playthroughs.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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